How Do You Sleep At Night?
by WordsOfASong
Summary: Ron, Hermione, and Harry are together during their search for hallows and horcruxes. Both Hermione and Harry are lacking that feeling of love, and Ron is jealous as usual. Harry/Hermione/Ron love triangle.
1. Broken Hearts

**Author's Note: **Yes, I'm not bothering with a disclaimer… you all already know that I am NOT Mrs. Rowling. The idea for this story really came into my head while watching a Youtube video. I know that sounds silly, but just look up the song "How Do You Sleep at Night" by Charlie Puth. I don't know if this will be a chapter series or not, yet. Really, I'm in the middle of taking midterm exams; I should be studying! Oh, well. Hehe, seventy-five percent of you have ignored this A/N. Oh, and for the record, I am NOT a Harry/Hermione shipper.

Xx

"Hermione?"

"What?" she groaned into her pillow.

"Are you awake?"

"Obviously."

In the darkness of the tent, Harry watched the outline of her figure sit up in bed.

"Can you come outside with me?"

"Why? Is there something wrong? "

"No, I just have to talk to you."

"Talk to me in here, then," she turned her head to face the entrance of the tent, where snow was falling in fluffs.

Harry glanced in the direction of Ron's bunk, "I can't."

"I'll meet you out there in a few minutes, then."

Harry pulled his worn jacket closer to his chest as he sat in an area of dead grass where he'd magically removed the snow. Thoughts zoomed through his head like speeding bullets. The past months had been tough on the trio of friends. There was something missing; maybe, it was the thought of Ginny unsafe at Hogwarts. Harry was completely unaware of the outside world; his mind had been devoid of emotion. He pulled the Marauder's Map from his pocket and traced the outline of Ginny's character. Sleeping. Safe. At peace. He liked to think these things. However, they were unbelievable. On _Potterwatch_, the newscasters did not attempt to cover turmoil in the school. With Snape as headmaster, there was no telling the horrors that were occurring. Harry pulled the thin jacket closer around his shoulders and glanced into the tent. Hermione was rubbing her temple and slipping on her boots. He had noticed the tension, though had not been able to draw a source.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," he listened to her footsteps draw closer.

"Ron still has the locket," she said as she slumped down next to him, with her back resting on the side of the tent.

"Yeah," he said, "it's better we take turns more often. His hormones are raging."

Hermione stifled a small, quiet laugh, "Oh really? I couldn't tell."

It was clear that Ron was constantly upset, with his moans and groans about insufficient food and lack of a heating vent. It was almost as though…

"He doesn't want to be here."

"You can't say that, Harry."

"Why can't I? It's not as if he's done much.

"He's _trying_, Harry," she said unconvincingly.

"Sure doesn't look like it."

"Listen, Harry. I know you're stressed, but there's not much more we can do. If Ron wanted to leave, he'd have left by now. We're finding the rest of the horcruxes. That's what Dumbledore wanted us to do, and we will do it. Understood?"

"Yeah," Harry grumbled.

"Harry?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he turned his stare from the dark abyss of a forest to her brown eyes.

It was strange… under the glow of the lantern, her eyes were full of sorrow and warm friendliness.

"I'm sorry that we've been here for months. I'm sorry that we have no idea how to destroy the locket. I'm sorry that I'm clueless. I'm sorry… for everything," she tried to blink the tears from her watering eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Hermione," Harry whispered.

"Yes, I do, Harry. I'm not oblivious to the fact that you've been frustrated with us."

"I _am _frustrated, Hermione, but it's not you. It's not Ron, either." The words slipped from his mouth. "We have no contact with your family or Ron's. I haven't seen Ginny since the wedding, and we left without a proper goodbye. Do you know what this is like?" his voice rose. "She's out there, in constant danger. I'm out here, at an even more risk. I can't leave her, Hermione. I can't. I just can't. Don't make me leave her. I love her, I can't… I can't…" His words trailed off as he tucked his knees to his chest. The tears were already dried out from nights of silent crying.

"Shhh…" Hermione whispered. "It's okay, it's okay. We'll destroy each and every one of the horcruxes. You-Know-Who will be gone. You'll see, Harry. You can live the life you've always wanted to. Picture it, a family."

"Hermione," he lifted his face to look at her.

"Harry?" her eyes looked confusedly into his.

The piercing green seemed to be like a stab to her heart. It was the worst feeling to live with the love of her life and be completely disregarded and unappreciated. Ron was never one to display his emotions, but he was certainly not hiding his upset state. Hermione looked deeper into Harry's eyes, trying to imagine what he felt. At least Hermione knew that Ron was "safe" with them. She knew where he was and what he was doing. Harry, however, was completely empty. If there was no Ginny, there was no Harry.

Harry was suddenly aware of how close her body was to his; he could feel her body heat radiating with his. He lifted a hand from around his knees to under her delicate chin and tilted his head. Her head turned to the left as she leaned in slowly and unsurely. Their lips met in the middle. Harry's head was empty, trailing without a thought. They're bodies turned towards each other as Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione's thin body. Hermione traced her hands to the nape of his neck.

The two had never been this close. Hermione pulled away slowly, looking into Harry's eyes, looking for some kind of explanation. They were missing love, missing the feeling that everyone should have. Hermione knew it was wrong; she knew she was using her best friend to fill the void in her heart, but she didn't care. She leaned in and pressed her lips against Harry's once again. When she felt his tongue trace the outside of her upper lip, a shiver gently traced her spine. She parted her lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth.

Harry's hand rested on the small of Hermione's lower back and the other was tangled in her bush of hair. For the first time in months, he was feeling warmth. It was the care and love that were missing from his heart.

"Harry?" A moment passed. "Hermione?"

Hermione jerked away from Harry and seemed to fly five feet away. She stood and brushed the snow from her jeans, looking apologetically at Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry… I shouldn't have…"

"No, Hermione, it's fine. Really, it is," he whispered back.

"Where the hell are you two?" Ron called from the tent again.

"Out-" her voice broke, "Outside."

"Why are two of you on guard? Hermione, you should get some sleep."

Harry swore he saw a small glint of jealousy in Ron's eyes. How much had he seen?

Xx

**Author's Note: **This was actually one of the most difficult things I've ever written, excluding my English papers. I'm a natural Ron/Hermione shipper, but I liked where this story was going in my head. Let's see where it ends up. (To me, the POV is a little blurry and confused, so tell me what you think. I tried to go for third person omniscient just to try something new.) Constructive criticism _is_ appreciated! I have an idea for chapter two, but I'd like to know what everyone thinks first. Thank you so much for reading; it means so much to me! :D


	2. Tender, Love, and Care

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter two. I don't really have much to say… for once. Um, I hope you like this?

_**CHAPTER TWO: Tender, Love, and Care**_

Blood pumped furiously through his veins. Hot, jealous, venomous blood. The locket, cold like stone, glued itself to his chest, just above his heart. He had half the mind to slap the fucking sense into his "best" friend's head. He'd hex him; hex him so he could never make a move like that again. The locket grew colder against his freckled skin and throbbed with anticipation. He had half the heart to tell him off. What was he thinking? There was no chemical connection between Harry and Hermione; it _had _to be just lust.

Ron had risen from his bunk when he heard Harry's voice become loud outside the tent. He was yelling something about Ron's younger sister, though the words were muffled. As Ron approached the entrance to the tent, he caught the slightest glimpse of his best friend sucking face with the love of his life, before he ran back into the tent, fighting the urge to vomit.

His hands were balled into fists before he escorted Hermione back into the tent.

Hermione watched him walk outside. Her head spun with the idea that Ron could have easily seen her with Harry. She urged him to remove the locket, but he only shook his head. She watched as his face turned red to match his hair. She listened for his usual heavy footfalls, but heard nothing but silence.

Ron had walked quietly out into the cold to meet Harry.

"What did you do with her?" he hissed.

"Nothing," Harry said, impulsively.

"Don't lie to me."

"Ron, take off the locket."

"You can't bloody tell me what to do."

"RON, take off the locket," Harry urged.

"I'll take it off when I feel like it."

Harry reached a hand out to snatch the pendant; Ron's hand covered his.

"Get your hands off of me," Ron slurred.

"I'm not touching you, Ron. You're touching me."

Ron wrenched Harry's hand from the locket and punched the side of the tent viciously before he slumped down along the side of it.

"Why did you kiss her, Harry?" he asked weakly.

"It's nothing, Ron,"

"Why did you kiss her?" he repeated.

"I miss Ginny," was the only thing he could say. He couldn't very well tell his best friend that there was an empty black hole sucking the life from his heart.

"So you decided to turn Hermione into a slut?"

"What?" Harry was shocked. "Hermione's not a slut!"

"Well…"

"Well what, Ron? I'm sorry you've treated her like shit for the past three months. Maybe she needs a little TLC."

"What the bloody hell is TLC?"

"Tender, love, and care, Ron. It's a muggle phrase for giving something affection. All Hermione needs is someone to love her, even a friend. Have you even stopped to listen to yourself speak to her?"

Ron paused, reluctant to put the blame on himself, "So your solution is to go and a have a nice old snog, then? You can't just tell her she's doing a damn well job with the cooking?"

"When will this get through your thick head, Ron?"

"I don't have a thick head!" Ron rushed towards Harry, fists and minds ablaze.

"Ron, what the hell are you doing?" Harry ducked as Ron swung a fist.

"Can we at least handle this like mature men?" Harry yelled. "We're seventeen, Ron. We're not twelve anymore. Stop this."

Ron brought his fist to Harry's gut, relieved to hear the grunt of pain.

Harry fell to the ground and pulled out his wand.

"PROTEGO!" screamed Hermione. "Stop this, stop it, stop it now!"

She marched from the tent's entrance toward her two best friends, separated by a shield. "Do you see what you are doing to each other? We can't do this. We have to focus. Listen, Volde-"

"Don't say the name," Ron hissed.

"_You-know-who_ is controlling the ministry, the paper, our friends. I will _not_ let a little social problem get in the way of that. Harry, I came with you. I left my parents in a foreign country to help _you_. Ron, you left your family and your delightful abundance of food to help _Harry_." She said scornfully. "We are friends. We stick together. Got it? We are going to pretend like nothing happened, because it will never happen again."  
Harry nodded. He understood what Hermione was trying to say. Without his friends, he was nothing.

Ron softened his glare at Harry; he admired the way Hermione was stubborn enough to stop everything and bring them together. Of course he would never stop complaining of the bland fish and boiled mushroom meals that Hermione conjured, but he would commit himself to appreciate the effort.

"I'm going to bed," Harry grumbled. "One of you keep watch… or both of you."

Xx

**Author's Note: **There you go. I feel like this is a lot different from anything I've ever written. Mostly because I'm generally a happy person, and I like to write happy things. Please let me know what you think; it's easy. Just click the cute little review button ;). New chapter in the works!


	3. I'm All You've Got

**Author's Note: **I didn't really intend for this to be a chapter series, but I hope you all enjoy it. I'm thinking there's going to be a couple more chapters, but possibly more.

_**CHAPTER THREE: I'm All You've Got**_

"Hermione,"

"I'm going inside."

"No, wait."

She turned to face Ron's icy blue eyes. "I've caused enough trouble tonight… and so have you. Good night."

"Hermione, please." He placed a hand on her forearm. "Listen to me."

She stopped in place as Ron tried to take one of her hands in two of his.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She read the genuine apology in his eyes and facial expression. "I know; I am, too. This should have never happened in the first place."

"Hermione, there's something I have to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I lov-" he paused. For unspoken reasons, Ron could not say it. He could not tell Hermione that he loved her. It was as though they had been friends for too long. It was too late for them, and after what he had said and done tonight, he wouldn't have been surprised if she hated him. "I love your cooking." He blurted.

Hermione laughed, "Yeah, right." Her heart sunk. She had not been expecting an "I love you" or something of the sorts, but she had hoped. Maybe it _was _just her brain over-thinking. The void in her heart grew larger, and she wanted Ron to be the one to fill it.

"You're beautiful when you smile. You know that, Hermione?"

Maybe hope was all she needed. Even though Ron could be the biggest prat of all, she still loved him. His laugh, his jokes, his genuineness. "You used to make me smile, Ron."

"What do you mean I 'used to'?"

"It's just…" Hermione waved her hand around the scenery. "After this?"

"I get it," Ron replied after the vague statement. Being on the run with a scarce food supply was not easy, especially for him. They were chasing after objects without a place to begin. After Voldemort's rise, life wasn't easy for them. It was as though there wasn't time for smiles anymore. _What a pity_, he thought. He loved Hermione's smile.

"I look forward to the days where we don't have to worry," she let the edges of her lips turn upward as she pictured a life with her parents once again. She shook the memory of clearing their minds out of her head.

"We all have to worry now: for our families, for our friends, and for our lives. But you know what, Hermione? I can't say that worry-free day is coming soon, but we have each other," Ron's voice grew smaller with each word as he shrunk to the ground and tucked his legs to his chest.

"And that's all that matters."

"Love triumphs," he whispered into his knees.

Hermione kneeled and tucked a strand of wild red hair out of Ron's eyes.

"Hermione?" Ron said after a moment had passed.

"Yes?"

"What's the real reason Harry kissed you?"

"Ron, don't linger over that," she sighed, reluctant to give an answer.

"I won't let it go, Hermione, and you know that."  
She inhaled and sat on her bum next to Ron. "If I told you, you'd think I was ridiculous."

"I would never think you were ridiculous, Hermione. If I could, I'd bring Ginny to wherever we are, so you two could have a little girl talk, but right now, I'm all you've got."

xx

**Author's Note: **I feel the need to explain the title. I don't know why, because you're a smart person and can most likely figure it out. "How Do You Sleep At Night" basically paints a picture of the trio struggling through their journey to find these horcruxes; thus, with all the struggle and conflicts they have internally/with each other, it's stressful. How can they sleep through all the stress? I know I wouldn't have been able to.


	4. Close Your Eyes

**Author's Note: **If you're a Ron/Hermione shipper, clap your hands!

_**CHAPTER FOUR: Close Your Eyes**_

"Have you ever had that feeling?"

"What feeling?"

"Like you're," she paused and thought for a moment, "empty inside."

Ron ran a hand through his hair and dramatically said, "God, Hermione. I dunno…"

"Oh, shush!" she slapped his arm playfully and let another smile tug at her lips.

Hermione stared into Ron's eyes as he stared into hers. He reached a hand forward, but she tugged her gaze down quickly, afraid. Afraid of what? She didn't exactly know, but it was the simple fear of losing something she would become attached to. His hand fell quietly to the ground as he trailed it back towards his own body. She instantly regretted pulling away. She would not lose Ron. She would not allow herself to lose him.

"Yes," he said.

"What?" Hermione's thoughts clicked back into place.

"It's as though with every day that passes, it gets worse. There's no love here, Hermione. If there is, it's hidden. The three of us are camping in a different forest every day, jaded with thoughts of evil on the rise. Is there any good left in this world? Is there any warmth left for our hearts?"  
Hermione felt her eyebrows rise with the shock that Ron could be ever so insightful. That's what isolation did to him, but she liked it. The subtle message that he was trying to send to her did not escape her thoughts. _Is there any warmth less for our hearts_? Voldemort could take their family, their houses, their safety, but he could not take their love.

"Yes, there is," she lay a hand over his as she watched his gaze meet hers.

"You know, what happened earlier…" he murmured increasingly slower. "I know, you and Harry… well, you don't have anything between you. I can tell."

She nodded her head, "It's about time, Ron. How can you tell?"

"The way you talk to each other. There's a strong bond there. When I saw you, I was shocked. Actually, I was more angry than shocked."

"Why angry?"

"Jealous. Okay? I was jealous. Are you happy now?" Ron grunted miserably. He hated having to admit to her that he was jealous. It was like telling Fred and George he wanted them to stop pranking him because it hurt his feelings. The only response would be laughter and glee.

"I won't say I'm happy. Why? Because that jealousy drives you into misery. All I've wished and prayed for over the past few weeks is for us all to get along. Ron, I wouldn't ever tell you not to be jealous. If you want, go ahead; see where it gets you. Last year, I'd turn a corner and come face to face with you sucking face with Lavender Brown. Do you think that was fun for me? It was dreadful, but if I let it bother me, I'd go nowhere. I succeeded more than ever in my schoolwork because the only thing that would stop me from over-thinking and breaking down was to immerse myself in the books. You can call me a nerd all you want, go ahead."

"Hermione… I couldn't imagine how terrible it must have been for you. I was sixteen; I had no idea if you loved me at all. I just figured you'd show some sign of it if I dated someone else. It was a rotten move, Hermione. I regret every second of the misery I put you through."

Hermione shook her head and turned to the opposite side, wishing she could sit in bed for hours and memorize the meaning for every rune in the books. Ron placed two fingers under her chin and gently turned her face toward his. She couldn't resist noticing the warmth of his hand and tried to hold the shiver that ran down her spine within her body.

When their eyes met, Ron whispered, "Close your eyes."

**Author's Note: **Hahaha, I know what's going to happen next, and you don't! Just kidding, chapter five is in the works at this current moment. I hope you're all sticking along with me! Keep the reviews coming, because I love hearing what you guys have to say. Please, don't be afraid to offer constructive criticism. Exams are over, but school's back in session; I don't know when I'll get the chance to post chapter five, but pay attention to your story alert!


	5. Golden in the Moonlight

**Author's Note: **Let's see how this goes…

_**Golden in the Moonlight**_

She did as she was told and waited. Almost a minute passed as she began to get nervous. Her body ached to know what was taking so long. There was a sudden, loud sound of a branch snapping in the distance and Hermione's eyes shot open. She gazed around, but Ron was nowhere in sight. She jumped to her feet, worried as to what had happened to him. A few feet away, there was an odd clearing of snow. When she approached it, something was messily written in the dirt with a branch.

"Close your eyes. I'll be back."

She laughed in her head, loving how Ron knew her so well. Only he and Harry would know that she would have a heart attack if either of them went missing. Slightly bouncing with each step, she floated back to the edge of the tent and peered inside. Cuddled in bed with the Marauder's Map still activated, Harry was snoring. It was the first time she could be sure he was deep in sleep in weeks. She laid her head against the tent and closed her eyes, pulling her jumper closer to her torso.

Her eyelids grew heavy with each passing minute. As she felt her mind drift slowly into dreamland, a slight tickling sensation skimmed her forearm. She jumped, not resisting the opening of her eyes.

"Ron!"

"Yeah?" he stated, as though nothing had changed.

"Where did you go?"

"Oh, nowhere," he smiled playfully.

Hermione tilted her head to the side with a half smile, "Ron…" she started.

From behind his back, he pulled a small bouquet. Each flower was loaded with soft, pink petals delicate enough to fall apart at the touch. Each petal was laced with a golden trim that sparkled in the winter moonlight.

"Oh," she gasped softly in surprise.

Ron placed the set of flowers carefully in her hands and wrapped her thin fingers around it. "Hermione, I don't love your cooking." She raised her gaze to meet his. "I love you." He whispered so quietly, but she knew she would still hear him from miles away.

**Author's Note: **Hm, I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter. I feel like there's a different direction in which I could have driven it. Any comments? Feel free; you know what to do.


	6. Madly and Deeply

**Author's Note: **Hopefully, this chapter will be much better. I hope you all love it!

_**CHAPTER SIX: Madly and Deeply**_

Wondering what took him so long, Hermione choked over the words in her head. _Ron you're a prat, a git, a nincompoop. _When he had blurted the three words she had always wanted to hear from him, she was ecstatic, feeling as though Cupid himself had struck her in the heart. A part of her strayed over the thought that Ron was doing what she did to Harry, but she ripped her brain away from the idea.

Watching Hermione's eyes twinkle in the thin sliver of moonlight, Ron waited for his reply. His arms tingled, and his body shivered in the cold winter night. If Hermione didn't love him, his words would just stretch the tedious journey ahead of them. He wished he could persuade her into loving him as he inched his body slightly closer to hers.

Hermione tried not to laugh as she noticed the anxious glint in Ron's eyes, "What took you so long?" She whispered quietly.

Ron took a breath of relief and sighed, "Don't pretend like you don't know."

"Honestly, I don't. If I did, I wouldn't ask."

"I've loved you since the day you took the blame for the troll when we were eleven. It's been six years, Hermione. Six… years…," he stared blankly into the forest ahead of them, reminiscing in his mind, "I never thought I'd have a chance. You were so smart," he paused. "You _are _so smart. You've always been the brightest witch of our age." His gaze turned to watch her lips turn upwards into a smile as she stroked the petals of his bouquet. "I've never ceased to be the clumsy, poor, dirty bloke who was always in second place to the boy who nearly destroyed Voldemort when he was a baby. I was nothing, and you were everything."

"Ron, _you _are my everything. You've always been my everything," she reached her arms over Ron's shoulders and pressed her lips to his. Ron was always perfect; he was always flawless. She never wanted to feel like he was in second place to anyone. Since age eleven, when she spotted the dirt on the tip of his nose, she had been madly and deeply in love with Ron Weasley. Nothing would stop that… not even the band of snatchers running inside their protection boundaries.

**Author's Note: **I'm running out of ideas for author's notes. To apologize for the near two weeks without an update, chapters five and six have been uploaded today :) Much love to you all! I hope you liked the last minute twist, more to come soon! (I will mainly be taking the Malfoy manor chapter from _Deathly Hallows_ and changing point of views/scenes around.)


	7. Snatchers

**Author's Note: **Ahh! I'm actually excited over where I'm taking this story. I hope you like this turn to the story as much as I enjoy writing it! Side note: the spell Hermione used to change Harry's appearance was not given in the book, so I tried my best to get one to fit with the context! Yes, I do know that the trio was not taken to Malfoy Manor during the winter, but this is a _Fanfiction_. This is what happens in Fanfiction. We make stuff up.

**Disclaimer: **All rights of the _Harry Potter _series belong to J.K. Rowling. This chapter is based on the chapter, "Malfoy Manor" from the book, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._

_**CHAPTER SEVEN: Snatchers**_

"Young love?" a grisly, gnarled voice screeched. "How… cute."

A blast of purple light. Two teenagers ripped from each other, each held in the firm grasp of one of two un-showered men.

"Search the tent!" hissed the first man. A fourth man, similar looking to the rest, emerged from behind a tree. He sprinted to the entrance to the tent.

Hermione wrestled from the loose grip of her beholder, "Diffindo!" she screamed as her wand pointed towards Harry, who was slowly emerging from the tent's entrance. Harry's knees buckled as he hit the ground, clutching his bleeding face. "Hermione, what the bloody f-"

The sprinting man came to an abrupt stop in front of Harry's bloody form. He glanced at his boss, who said, "What are you waiting for?" and continued to drag Harry's body through the grass.

"Snatch her, you idiot," the first man hissed again. Hermione's previous beholder did as he was told.

"Get her hands off of her, you foul, loathsome, evil-" Ron's beholder gagged him with his sleeve.

"We do wha' we want, 'round here, mudblood."

"I 'm poor-bluhd!" Ron muffled through the gag.

Hermione didn't have the room in her mind to even think about crying or fear, her thoughts raced with possible solutions to save them from this. Ron had said the name Voldemort… how could this happen? She despised the taboo more than anything.

"Leave him!" Hermione cried out.

"Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's in my list. Delicious girl… what a treat… I do enjoy the softness of the skin."

Harry felt the blood in his veins ripple and boil as he recognized the voice of Fenrir Greyback. His hands, which were tied together by one of the snatchers, balled into fists. "Now let's see who we've got," Greyback gloated. Someone kicked Harry onto his back, and he grunted with pain. How had the snatchers managed to find them? "I'll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What's your name?"

"Dudley," Harry said, spitting blood onto the snow.

"And your first name?"

"Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

Greyback ordered the man holding Ron, Scabior, to check a list.

"And what about you, ginger?"

"Stan Shunpike," Ron blurted.

Hermione felt like putting a palm to her face. Ron was a nervous one; she wished she could give him her steady mind. There was a loud thud as the snatchers caught his lie; Hermione let out a whimper.

"I'b Bardy. Bardy Weadley." Ron spat a mouthful of blood to the ground, hoping the snatchers would be content with his name. His hopes fell when they called him out as a blood traitor. He watched the dark outline of a hunched figure approach Hermione.

"Who are you, girly?"

"Penelope Clearwater… half-blood." Hermione squeaked. Ron admired the way Hermione handled stressful situations, but there was no place for congratulations.

"Easy enough to check," Scabior grunted. "And you thought, you'd use the Dark Lord's name? You know who used to like using the Dark Lord's name? The Order of the Phoenix, they don't show the Dark Lord proper respect, so the name's been Tabooed." He laughed, and Ron mentally punched himself. How could he have been so stupid to let the name slip from his mouth. It was stupid, and all his fault that his friends were about to suffer slow and painful deaths. Ron heard the grunts of both a teenage girl and boy, assuming it was Harry and Hermione. He screamed with pain as someone hauled him to a truck by his hair and was tied to the back of a person. He felt the bushy hair tickle the back of his neck before he whispered, "Hermione?"

"Ron?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, Ron," Hermione felt her voice break and the tears run down her cheeks. They had been foolish.

Harry awaited the movement of the truck but felt nothing. They were still in the camping area. He opened his eyes and saw a moving glint of silver. "Look at this, Greyback!" cried a voice coming from the direction of the moving silver.

"Where did you get something like this?" asked Greyback.

Harry's heart stopped. The werewolf had the sword of Gryffindor, their only weapon against Voldemort's multiple souls. Before Harry could make up an answer, Scabior said, "Look at this, in the _Prophet_!"

Ron watched Harry as Harry tucked his chin to his chest and shut his eyes tight. Hermione turned her head and glanced in the same direction, slightly disoriented and lost. "_'Ermione Granger, the mudblood who is known to be traveling with Harry Potter."_

"_Shit_," Hermione hissed under her breath.

"Hermione," Ron breathed in desperation.

"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you." Scabior said.

Hermione squeaked in denial.

"Well, this changes things. Doesn't it?" Greyback whispered in realization. He approached Harry and searched desperately on his disfigured face for a trace of the famous scar. Another snatcher approached with Harry's glasses that he'd discovered in the tent.

The snatcher group discussed as a whole over the new situation, knowing they'd found the most wanted boy in the world.

Ron moved his hand around the hard seat and found Hermione's. He intertwined his fingers with hers and whispered, "I won't leave your side." Hermione's breathing was fast and terrified as the snatchers disapparated with them.

**Author's Note: **I seriously don't know where I found to write about 2,000 words (3 chapters) in one day. I hope you're all happy, content, and enjoying yourselves!


	8. Uncertainty

**Disclaimer: **I felt the need for a disclaimer, because many of the quotes in the remaining chapters are directly from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. _This is so because this is where the plot line is going; I'm basically outlining the Malfoy Manor chapter with the addition that Ron and Hermione know that they love each other. It sets out a very desperate and intense tone, so I hope you enjoy it.

**Author's Note: **I am back. That is all.

_**Chapter Eight: Uncertainty**_

Ron's lungs shriveled in the whipping motion of apparation. He, along with Harry and Hermione, gasped for air upon arrival at the front of wrought-iron gates. These gates swung open instantly at the mention of Harry's name, as if they'd been awaiting him.

"Hermione," Ron whispered over his shoulder.

"Ron," she whispered back with their wrists tied together by ropes. "Harry?" she jumped slightly at his grunt of pain. Hermione squeezed her eyes to stop the flow of tears.

"What is this?" the cold voice ran into the marrow of Ron's bones.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Who are you?"

"You know me! Fenrir Greyback. We've caught Harry Potter," he snarled resentfully.

Hermione locked her shoulders, desperate not to tremble. She could almost smell the hot, tortured breath of the terrible werewolf.

Ron caught a glimpse of Harry's ropes being cut off. Harry was dragged around to face the light and other prisoners.

Hermione inhaled, deeply and suddenly, at the gashes and swelling upon Harry's face. She had not meant to inflict physical damage, but her nerves drove the jinx awry.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im," another Snatcher gasped desperately. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl. The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am-"

Hermione shivered at his horrible use of grammar and prayed that he was completely unaware. Her eyes chased the room and found a slender, blonde woman with the cold voice.

"Bring them in," Hermione recognized the woman as Narcissa Malfoy and realized the immediate danger that they were in. They were in Malfoy Manor, home of the Malfoys, Voldemort's closest supporters. Hermione was kicked up stone steps into a hallway before she could scan the room again. "Follow me," Narcissa squeaked. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know." _Draco would do anything to have us gone_; Hermione's hopes of possibly escaping had fallen.

"What is this?" said a drawling voice.

Ron's fists bunched tightly at the sound. _Lucius Malfoy, you foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach. _He prayed silently that the slithering man would not lay a finger upon Hermione.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa answered. "Draco, come here."

Hermione watched Harry avert his gaze from Draco's face.

Harry stared into the mirror over a fireplace. He would not have recognized himself if he had not known that he himself was standing in that exact spot. He hoped Draco would not see through his guise.

"Well, Draco?" Lucius cried avidly. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't – I can't be sure," Harry felt the fear in Draco's voice.

"But look at him carefully, look. Come closer!" the evil tones arose in Draco's father's voice. "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv - "

Hermione's thoughts stopped running. It was true, then. The Malfoys were searching to regain their lost dignity. They had never cared of anyone but themselves. There was no reason as to why Draco would lie to save Harry.

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope," Greyback said menacingly.

"Of course not, of course not," Harry could read the lies in Lucius' voice. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state?" Lucius demanded.

Ron was instantly grateful for Hermione's quick thinking. If that jinx was not released upon Harry's face, Voldemort would be tracking them down at that very moment.

"That wasn't us."

"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me." Lucius traced his eyes frantically upon Harry's forehead, searching for a scar. "There's something there. It could be the scar, stretched tight… Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?

"I don't know," Draco said after approaching Harry. He quickly scuttled back to the fireplace next to his mother.

Harry heard the reluctance in Draco's voice, but did not understand why it was there.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa said hesitantly. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord… They say this is his, but it does not resemble Ollivander's description… if we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?" Her hands shook, most likely feeling the lack of control she currently had over her son's protection.

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback growled, obviously hungry for dinner. Ron balled his fists even tighter, if that was possible. He would not let the scavenging wolf walk three feet within Hermione's vicinity.

Narcissa turned her gaze upon Hermione's features.

"Wait, yes – yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with the Potter. I saw her picture in the _Prophet_! Look, Draco, isn't that the Granger girl?" she sounded utterly desperate.

"I … maybe … yeah," Draco stated slowly.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together in concentration. Draco was hesitant. It made no sense to her. Draco had stared at her face for the past six years, whether he'd liked it or not. Why would he have not immediately recognized her now?

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius shouted proudly. "It's them, Potter's friends – Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-"

"Yeah, it could be."

Another indefinite answer… Hermione pondered whatever reasons could enter her frantic thoughts.

"What's this? What's happened, Cissy?" a new woman entered the room, vaguely familiar to Hermione or Ron, but imprinted beneath Harry's eyes. Harry felt his heart beat faster and his fingernails dig into his palms, reluctant to let his scream of hatred reveal his identity.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked a circle around the prisoners and halted at Hermione's feet, "But surely, this is the Mudblood girl. This is Granger?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger. And beside her, we think, Potter. Potter and his friends, caught at last."

_He's unsure. He must be uncertain,_ Hermione thought. Lucius' frantic tone and panicked assumption made her feel as though he was searching for a last resort.

"Potter?" Lestrange shrieked. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" She pulled back her sleeve, and Hermione muffled her squeak of terror into her shoulder. Drastic decisions of the stupid were something she could not control.

**Author's Note: **I know it's been ages since the last update. My spring break starts next week, so I do plan to finish the story then. I've written the last few chapters, and there will be four more. I have some revising and rearranging to do, but they should be done soon. Love you all!


	9. Not Under Our Control

**Author's Note: **Wow, two chapters in one week? That's unbelievable, right? Haha, just kidding. I will most likely finish this story by the end of this week, so be ready!

_**Chapter Nine: Not Under Our Control**_

"I was about to call him!" Lucius grabbed Bellatrix's wrist. "I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority-"

"Your authority!"she sneered. Ron would have laughed at the seemingly childlike argument if it had not been for the immediate danger. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius. How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This has nothing to do with you; you did not capture the boy."

"Begging your pardon, _Mr. _Malfoy," Greyback interrupted, "but it's us that caught Potter and it's us that'll be claiming the gold."

Ron resented that gold was the reason why the Snatchers had seized them. Gold was the reason why Hermione's life could be at serious risk.

"Gold!" Bellatrix laughed. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his – of-" she paused, "STOP!" she cried as Lucius pulled up his own sleeve. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!" She froze. "What is that?" she demanded to a Snatcher. "Give it to me."

"It's not yorn, missus. It's mine, I reckon I found it."

Hermione froze at the sight of the snatcher holding the sword of Gryffindor, and she shook at the bang and flash of red light.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?" cried another Snatcher.

"Stupefy!" Bellatrix screamed across the room, stunning four other snatchers. She grabbed the sword of Gryffindor from the floor. "Where did you get this sword?" she demanded of Greyback.

"How dare you?" he snarled when she placed her wand under his chin. "Release me, woman!"

Harry gaped at the sword behind Bellatrix. How could they have been so stupid as to leave it lying around? The most important tool in their journey had been taken. He pondered for seconds that seemed to drone on for hours. There was nothing he could do to get it back.

She ignored his jeers, "Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"

"Draco, move this scum outside. If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

"Don't you dare speak to my son like that!"

"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine! We have a very serious situation! If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself, but if he finds out… I must… I must now…" Bellatrix turned her back to her sister. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do."

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give any orders in my house."

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" She was frightening to the Malfoys and to any person among their wits.

Narcissa hesitated, "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," Bellatrix stated. "All except… except for the Mudblood."

"No!" Ron felt his heart clench. He cried desperately. "You can have me, keep me!" A slap echoed across the room, and he felt the burn across his cheek. Hermione felt the burn empathetically; silent tears ran down her face.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback. Make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them – yet."

Hermione gasped and cried as she was pulled by her hair into the middle of the room while Greyback shoved the rest across the passageway. She struggled against his force but failed pathetically. She felt useless and vulnerable without an idea to escape.

"Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" he crooned. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, Ginger?" Ron's heart clenched in his hopelessness of helping Hermione out of this mess.


	10. Deperate, Lost, and Doomed

**Author's Note: **Second chapter in the same day? Oh dear, there must be something wrong with me. I hope you all enjoy this one! Only a few more.

_**Chapter Ten: Desperate, Lost, and Doomed**_

Greyback forced the prisoners down the stairs and left them in complete darkness. The cellar door slammed shut and the echo left them in silence.

A terrible, drawn-out scream sounded from directly above them.

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed in fear for losing Hermione, trying to writhe from the ropes binding his sides. "HERMIONE!"

"Be quiet," Harry hissed. "Shut up, Ron. We need to work out a way…"

He despised Ron's lack of control over the situation. Despite Harry's panic, he was still able to control his actions. Ron, on the other hand…

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Ron didn't see Harry's rationale. He didn't see that there was no point in yelling. He wanted to believe that by crying her name, Hermione would be okay… that Hermione would remain untouched.

"We need a plan, stop yelling – we need to get these ropes off-"Harry fought the urge to slap Ron across the face and knock his senses back into place. He couldn't stand hearing Hermione's tortured cries, but there was no good in yelling.

"Harry?" a whisper penetrated the silence in between Harry's begs and Ron's shrieks. "Ron? Is that you?"

Ron ceased his screams only in shock, and Harry noticed the shadow drawing closer. "Harry? Ron?"

"_Luna_?"

"Yes it's me! Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!"

"Luna could you help us get these ropes off?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes, I expect so… There's an old nail we use if we need to break anything… Just a moment."

Hermione screamed again along with Bellatrix's inaudible shouts. A distracted Ron screamed again, "HERMIONE!"

"Mr. Ollivander, have you got the nail? If you just move over a little bit… I think it was beside the water jug." Harry heard Luna speaking calmly to Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker. "You need to stay still," she told them.

Bellatrix's voice was audible from overhead. "I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where_?"

"We found it – we found it – PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again. Ron struggled harder than ever and the iron nail slipped upon Harry's wrist.

"Ron!" Harry moaned in pain.

"Ron, please stay still. I can't see what I'm doing." Luna pleaded.

"My pocket. In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!" he scrambled out.

Tiny balls of light filled the room, unable to find sources, and illuminated the air.

"Oh, that's much easier. Thanks, Ron! Oh, and hello there, Dean."

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" Bellatrix's muffled voice came from above.

"HERMIONE!" Ron shrieked upon hearing another one of Hermione's tortured cries.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

Ron shivered, and prayed that he was there to jump in between Hermione and the knife. _I will die for Hermione Granger. She will not die because of me_, he thought without hesitation.

"There!" Luna said proudly as the ropes fell away.

Ron scuttled frantically around the cellar, looking at the ceiling for a hidden trapdoor. He attempted apparation without a wand.

"There's no way out, Ron," Luna shook her head at his fruitless efforts. "The cellar is completely escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time, he's tried everything."

Hermione screamed again, this one going through Harry like physical pain. He ran around the cellar, feeling the walls and knowing in his heart that the efforts were useless. The pain in his scar was overcome by his empathy for his best friend.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"

Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with Harry.

Harry groped inside Hagrid's pouch from around his neck. He pulled out the snitch and shook it – looking for what, he did not know. He waved the two broken halves of his old wand, wishing for desperate results. Nothing. The mirror fragment fell sparkling to the floor where Harry noticed the gleam of brightest blue. _Dumbledore. _"Help us!" he cried. "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!"

No one was there to help them. They were desperate, lost, and doomed.


	11. Saved by a Crack

**Author's Note: **Yes, I am aware of the fact that this is obscenely short of a chapter. It's literally 185 words… I'll post another one soon. Don't worry, it's much longer :)

_**Chapter Eleven: Saved by a Crack**_

Hermione screamed as though her body, mind, and soul were being tortured and wrenched at once.

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight! We've never been inside your vault. It isn't the real sword. It's a copy, just a copy!" She panicked, struggling under Bellatrix's deathly grasp.

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily," Lucius slithered. "Draco, fetch the goblin. He can tell us whether the sword is real or not."

_Shit_, Hermione thought. She knew that they were goners at this point. She was limp with helplessness.

Harry instantly dashed to where Griphook was huddled on the floor. "Griphook, you must tell them that sword is a fake. They mustn't know it's the real one, Griphook. Please."

"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you."

The prisoners did as they were told, and Ron clicked the Deluminator. Malfoy seized Griphook and slammed the door shut. As the door slammed, a crack echoed in the cellar.

"DOB-" Ron shouted.

Harry hit Ron's arm to make him stop.

Dobby stood trembling and petrified, "Harry potter, Dobby has come to rescue you."


	12. A Free Elf

**Author's Note: **Wah, I don't wanna write one of these. Go read. :D

_**Chapter Twelve: A Free Elf**_

"But how did you..." Harry pushed the unimportant facts away, "You can disapparate out of this cellar?" Dobby nodded. "And you can take humans with you?" Dobby nodded again. "Right. Dobby, grab Luna, Deal, and Mr. Ollivander. Take them to-"

"Bill and Fleur's. Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth," Ron finished through his midst of panic and confusion.

"And then come back, can you do that, Dobby?"

"Of course, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered.

"But, Harry, we want to help you!" Luna whispered.

"We can't leave you here," said Dean.

"Go, both of you! We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's."

Harry's scar burned until he was looking down on another man, who was just as thin and old as Ollivander. He was laughing scornfully, saying, "_Kill me, then, Voldemort. I welcome death! But my death will not bring you what you seek… There is so much you do not understand…"_

Harry felt Voldemort's fury, but Hermione's scream brought him back to reality. "Go!" he shouted at Luna and Dean. "We'll follow, just go!" There was a loud crack as the four of them vanished.

"What was that? Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?" Lucius cried frantically. "Draco – no, call Wormtail. Make him go and check."

Harry cursed under his breath and scolded himself mentally for not thinking through the loud crack that had been sure to come with apparation.

"We're just going to have to try and tackle him." Harry whispered to Ron, "Leave the lights on."

Wormtail's voice entered the room with him, "Stand back. Stand away from the door, I am coming in."

The rat-like man was in the room for seconds before Harry and Ron launched themselves at them. Wormtail's silver hand closed upon Harry's throat as they fought silently. Harry gasped for the little air that he could retain.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Lucius called from above.

"Nothing, all fine!" Ron responded in a wheezy imitation. He wrestled unsuccessfully with Wormtail's silver fingers.

"You're going to kill me?" Harry choked. "After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail."

The silver hand slackened. Harry watched the shocked look upon Wormtail's face as his own silver hand struggled powerfully to move toward his own throat. He gaped at Voldemort's selfish action, granting his servant a hand that would fight back upon betrayal to its real master.

Ron grabbed Wormtail's wand from his grasp. Harry tried to drag back the hand without pausing to think, but the silver tool that Voldemort had given Wormtail had turned upon its disarmed and useless owner.

"Relashio!" Ron cried, attempting to stop the silver mechanism.

Peter's eyes rolled upward in his purple head, he gave a last twitch, and was still.

Harry and Ron gave a last glance at Wormtail's body before cautiously reaching the drawing room door. They peeked out with a clear view of Griphook holding the Gryffindor sword in his long-fingered hands.

"Well, is it the true sword?" Bellatrix asked impatiently.

"No, it is a fake."

"Are you sure? Quite sure?" she panted.

"Yes."

Harry's shoulders slackened as he took a deep breath of relief.

Hermione's eyes widened. She quickly returned them to their gaze of pain in order to keep the lie believable. What had the goblin gotten out of this? Did he want the sword for himself?

The tension drained from her features, "And now, we call the Dark Lord." She pressed her fingers upon the scar on her inner wrist.

Harry felt as though his scar had sliced open. He was Voldemort, and the wizard before him was laughing at him. He was enraged at the summoning – he had warned them, he had told them to summon him for nothing less than Potter. If they were mistaken…

"_Kill me, then! You will not win, you cannot win! That wand will never, ever be yours-_"

A flash of green light and that was all.

"And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron burst from the drawing room. "Expelliarmus!" he roared.

Harry caught the flying wand and stunned Lucius Malfoy.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix supported an unconscious Hermione, holding a short, silver knife to her throat. Harry froze. "Drop your wands," she said playfully. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is," she paused. "I said drop them!"

"All right!" Harry shouted, seeing the beads of blood appear upon Hermione's throat. He and Ron dropped their wands and raised their hands to their shoulders.

"Good," she leered. "Draco, pick them up. The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter. Your death approaches."

Harry knew it. He could feel Voldemort flying through the sky, over a dark and stormy sea. Soon, he would be close enough to apparate to them, and Harry could see no way out.

"Now, Cissy. I think we out ought to tie these little heroes up again while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

There was a grinding noise from above at which everyone looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble. Bellatrix dropped Hermione and threw herself aside from underneath it. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, on top of Hermione and Griphook. Dobby was doubled over with his bloody face covered by his hands.

Ron chased through the wreckage for Hermione's limp body, and Harry grabbed the three wands, shooting a stunning spell at Greyback.

Ron shook with relief, his anger building over images of Greyback tempting Hermione.

"Dobby! You! You dropped the chandelier?"

"You must not hurt Harry potter!" he squeaked.

"Kill him, Cissy!" Bellatrix screamed. "You dirty little monkey!" she cried as Dobby disarmed her sister. "How dare you take a witch's wand? How dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends."

"Ron, catch and go!" Harry shouted, feeling seconds before Voldemort arrived. He tugged Griphook from under the mass of crystals with the sword. He seized Dobby's hand and spun on the spot to disapparate.

Harry caught a glimpse of the pale Malfoys, Ron's red hair, and Bellatrix's flying dagger.

The five of them hit solid ground and their nostrils were filled with salty air.

"Are you alright?" he said as the goblin stirred.

"Dobby, is this Shell Cottage? Have we come to the right place? Dobby? DOBBY!"

Harry watched as Dobby swayed slightly, stars reflected in his eyes. Together, Harry and Dobby looked at the silver hilt of the knife protruding from the elf's tiny chest.

"Dobby – no – help!" Harry bellowed toward the cottage. "HELP! Dobby, no, don't die, don't die…"

"Harry… Potter…" Dobby shuddered and became scarily still. His eyes were nothing more than great glossy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

Harry stood motionless with the little elf in his arms. All thoughts, all pains, and all memories vanished from his brain. He was helpless and abandoned. _I have to bury him_, Harry thought over and over again. It would not take magic. He would do it with his own hands and get down in the dirt. He glanced around the land around him. Ron was gaping at Dobby's body while supporting an unconscious Hermione. Harry nodded at Ron who understood and left for the cottage with Hermione. Luna was tending to Ollivander lying on the ground.

"Luna," his voice choked, and he paused. "Take Ollivander up to the cottage. Fleur will help you tend to him." He could say no more.

His gaze turned to Dobby, the little elf who meant the world to him. A small tear dripped off his face and landed upon Dobby's forehead. Harry wiped it off gently with his thumb. He wrapped Dobby in his own jacket and curled him closer to his chest, closing the elf's eyes.

**Author's Note: **There is not that much of the story left! I believe there will be one last chapter, and that will be all. I really hope you've been enjoying this so far. The ending of this chapter is a little different from that of the actual book's. I know Luna originally closes Dobby's eyes and such. I just felt like changing it up :).


	13. What We're Up Against

**Author's Note: **Alright! This is finally the last chapter. Exciting, right? Well, I just finished writing it. This is one of my favorite ones since the first few. I think I really prefer writing free-hand without following the book's plot. I didn't just switch POV's around for this. I created my own little scene. That's what I like to write. As Meg Cabot says, "Write the kind of story you would like to read. People will give you all sorts of advice about writing, but if you are not writing something you like, no one else will like it either."

_**Chapter Thirteen: What We're Up Against**_

He brushed his lanky fingers behind her bushy hair, gently combing the strands behind her ears. Bill had insisted that he carry her to the guest room, and Fleur demanded that Hermione be given flower petals to scatter across the bed sheet. She had stubbornly insisted that they represented a quick recovery, but Ron thought she just wanted to make the unfinished bedroom look somewhat presentable. Fleur had offered to mix a brew of some medicinal potion, and Ron reluctantly agreed. He had wanted to be the one to treat Hermione and fix her up. He had wanted to be the one she opened her eyes to see.

Fleur pushed the door open with her bum and glided into the room with a tray filled with several different silver glasses, "Yes, yes. She eez still asleep, no?" She tapped a finger upon each glass until she stopped on one filled with a bubbling, purple potion. "Ahh, thees shall do!"

Ron wondered how Fleur was going to get Hermione to drink the potion before the part-veela parted Hermione's lips with her fingers and tilted the bushy head back.

"Wait!" he exclaimed.

"Vat?" She pouted and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground.

"What does that do?"

"Vat do you mean 'vat does eet do?'! It eez a recovery potion."

"Uh, maybe we should wait until she's a wake. You think?"

"Vhy?" Fleur was already somewhat discontent with the surprise arrival of guests; thus, she felt the need to pursue all medical treatments in her direction.

"Well," Ron paused. "What if she chokes on it or something? It's not like she's awake, so she can't swallow anything."

Fleur twitched, "Of course," and left without adieu.

Ron watched her tiny figure bounce haughtily out of the room, carrying a tray of unknown substances. He rose off up the floor, and followed Fleur out. He turned left to reach the bathroom and dug through cabinets to find a towel. After running it under the cold water, he wrung it out and carried it back to the guest room.

He kneeled upon the floor once again, stroking a hand along the side of Hermione's face. He gently dabbed the towel upon her wounds, starting with her hairline. The towel moved slowly down to her cheeks, her mouth, her chin, and her neck before Ron gently pulled down the neckline of her top to dap the towel right above her chest.

"Fleur!" he cried.

"VAT?" she responded from two rooms away.

"Do you have any ointment?"

A few seconds passed before the door opened and a bottle of "Mr. Polly's Wonders for the Wounded" hit Ron smack in the forearm.

"Thank you," he said somewhat sarcastically while rubbing the future bruise on his arm.

Ron unscrewed the cover and dabbed spots of the ointment upon the gashes on Hermione's body. He swirled his thumb in the goo and watched it fade away. The bloody wounds slowly dissolved into faded scars and Ron breathed slowly and deeply in relief.

He crawled over Hermione's unconscious body and lay next to her. He rested his head upon her shoulder, so he could feel her heartbeat beating through the veins in her neck.

"You're going to be okay, Hermione. I won't leave you. You're going to be okay," he whispered under his breath, more to ensure himself that she would be fine than to reassure her.

An hour might have passed before Ron awoke.

"Ron," she croaked without moving her sore body.

"Hermione?"

She sighed in relief of hearing his voice again and let the tears roll down her face.

"Shhhh," he said, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you hear me? I will not ever let anything happen to you."

He cupped his hands under her chin.

"Not now, Ron."

"What?"

"I can't do this now."

"Do what?"

"I can't… I have to…"

"Hermione,"

"Do you see what we're facing, Ron? Do you see what we're up against?"

"Of course I do."

"I love you, Ron," her eyes met his for the first time in what seemed like years.

"I love you, too."

"But I can't right now."

He understood. He didn't want her to keep talking, she didn't want to keep talking, but he understood. There was so much in their path ahead. He remembered Hermione during exam weeks: her concentration and complete focus. Nothing would distract her from her goal, and right now there was something bigger that needed doing. Hermione was the most amazing young woman he had ever met, and he would wait. After all, who else would help Harry if they weren't focused?

**Author's Note: **And that is all! I hope you all have enjoyed following this story :). I have a Ron/Hermione one-shot in the works, so hopefully I'll get on that soon. Add me to your alerts for new stories! Much love to you all.


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